Returning
by AlexDayLover
Summary: Draco Malfoy was perfectly content living under house arrest after the fall of Voldemort. But when his sentence is over, he recieves a strange letter from someone named Gryffin. Oh, and have I mentioned how Harry Potter disappeared five years ago and hasn't been seen since?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! This is Blaire here. I actually just came up with this idea and wanted to share it with you all. I hope you like this story, but I don't have a beta and this literally sprung from my head onto paper, unrefined. Thank you to everyone who read and liked my other stories. And please, review and tell me what you think. **

Five years after the fall of Voldemort. Five years since Hogwarts was destroyed and rebuilt. Five years since the elder wand was snapped in two.

And five years since Harry James Potter disappeared from the wizarding world without a trace.

When the smoke had settled, when the funerals were over, when the celebrations had just began… he left.

"Hermione, would you like to say something?" Neville called to the girl as he raised his glass.

It was the first official celebration, held at Hogwarts after it had been rebuilt. All the deaths were ebbing away from their minds and the realization that Voldemort was really and truly gone was starting to sink in.

"Of course!" Hermione pecked Ron's cheek and scrambled to get up on a chair. Ron grinned as he watched her.

"I tell ya, mate," He whispered to Harry, "I could get used to normal life."

Harry laughed. Hermione looked around, at everyone, and began speaking.

"Everyone here, and I mean everyone, fought well. We fought brave, and even those who didn't use a wand to do it, fought with their hearts. We won, because none of us gave up. None of us once, ever, for a moment, gave up. We doubted, sometimes. Oh, did we doubt. But we stayed true. And we won. And now, everything can go back to normal. And let's thank the one person who really did win, a personal battle as well as a war. Harry, the boy who lived. To Harry!" Hermione raised a toast, and everyone else chorused, "To Harry."

Harry blushed. "Thanks, guys. It wasn't just me. You all did well."

Hermione sat down again, and everyone started milling about. Ginny came up to Harry and took his hand.

"I'm proud of you." She said, kissing his cheek.

Harry pecked her back. "Proud of me? Funny, I was going to say the same about you."

Ginny giggled and went to find her friends. Ron and Hermione sat close to each other, smiling.

Harry stood. "I'm just gonna pop off to the loo, I'll be back in a minute."

"See ya, mate." Ron said. They watched his disappearing back.

Later, they hadn't seen him for hours, but they weren't really worried. Hermione kept looking around, but Ron pulled her onto the dance floor.

"He's probably with Ginny." He reassured her.

After the party broke up, they all went back to the Burrow, even Hermione. Harry wasnt there, either.

He didn't show up the next day, or the next. Hedwig was still in his room, and weeks after she still remained there. His clothes were still on the floor and his bed was unmade.

They hired investigators. They used tracking spells. They sent ads into papers. Harry had simply disappeared.

His friends were distressed, they were heartbroken, they were worried, frightened, angry, hurt and most of all, they were confused.

Where had he gone? Had he been kidnapped? It seemed the only logical explanation. There were meetings between everyone who had known him, to try and remember any little clue. Ron, Hermione and Ginny even braved Malfoy Manor to find answers, though Draco, the only Malfoy left after the war, refused to see them. He was on house arrest and claimed it was their fault.

When the three had left dejectedly, Draco had sat in the windowsill and watched them go, stroking his dark mark. His parents had resisted arrest and were killed by Aurors, specifically Kingsley and Mad-Eye. Even though he hadn't been close to them, it was still shattering to watch one's own parents stunned and then executed.

He had vowed then, after his sentence of five years in house arrest had been decided, that he was done with attachments. He was just done. He wouldn't have parents, or relatives, or friends, or lovers. He was himself and he didn't mind.

So it was a surprise when, as the day came when his sentence was over, he walked outside and saw an owl waiting for him. The first owl besides the Minstry owl he had seen in five years.

Taking the letter and giving the owl a crust of bread, he put it in his pocket. Letters were second to fresh air at the moment, he decided.

Strolling in the garden had become a hobby of his during his sentence, but now he pushed open the gate and stepped foot outside the perimeter of the grass. Smiling softly, he apparated to Knockturn Alley. Pulling a cloak above his head, he went in search of the Twisted Alchemist, his favorite store.

He had had to send the house elves here to collect various ingredients, but now he went himself. The store hadn't changed a bit, even from before the war.

Hurriedly pulling specific ingredients off the shelves, he set them on the counter and purchased them with galleons. He was still a Malfoy after all, and with that name came wealth, and plenty of it.

Leaving with the ingredients, he apparated back to Malfoy Manor. Giving the bag to Knobby, one of his house elves, he took off his cloak and pulled the letter out of his pocket.

Plopping down on a comfy chair to read it, he tore open the seal.

Draco,

I'm sure that you are just as happy as I am that your sentence is now over. You have my full congratulations. Fortunately, this means that you could be of some significant use to me.

You see, I am, for lack of a better term, a fugitive. I am unable to come into town because my face is easily recognizable. Don't worry, I'm not an escaped prisoner. I'm not dangerous. Well, I suppose I am certainly dangerous, but so are you. I mean you no harm, is what I should have said.

My proposition is simple. You'll act as my representative. I'll tell you what I need to do, and you'll do it. I have many things in the wizarding world that need attention, but as I have already stated, I am inconvenienced.

Now, you are a Malfoy. As such, I know it is beneath you to act as a servant or answer to any higher being. You are very proud, and at this point are probably wrinkling your nose in distaste. Good, I'm glad your spirit hasn't diminished with all that time inside.

Indeed, Draco realized he was wrinkling his nose and set his face to it's normal, impassive look. He resumed reading.

I assure you, you will not be a mere servant. If it was mindless errands I needed done, I would do them myself under a hood. It's almost too easy to remain undetected these days.

What I'm talking about, total reconstruction of the wizarding world. But you see, politics bore me. I'd rather not sit in a stuffy room with a hundred others and spend years debating a certain small issue. And I'd hate to shove that onto you, too.

So, if you agree, we'll just do some underground work. Perhaps a certain prized artifact will be "misplaced," or a politician's house will be vandalized.

It may go so far as actual pain or murder inflicted upon people. I'm merely laying out the job description.

Draco, I know you. And believe it or not, you know me. Knew me, I should say, a long time ago. But I know things about you.

Katie Bell, for instance. I know what you did to her.

Headmaster Dumbledore, as well. I was watching, but you didn't see me. People thought Snape killed him, but I saw as you yelled the curse. And I saw you enjoy it.

Now, I'm not saying that you won't dislike everything I ask you to do. But it's for a greater purpose. And, here's something I know you'll enjoy, I want the Aurors behind bars.

That's just one goal. But it is a goal. And one you share.

If you're willing to carry out my instructions, no questions asked, then there's one way I'd know.

On July 31st, something very dear to the wizarding world will be on display in London. Harry Potter's invisibility cloak. As we all know, his room was left untouched when he left, so all of his belongings were still in tact. Somehow, though, a gap will open in the perimeter of the guard. Someone wearing a special suit, which I just so happen to own and believe I misplaced, could sneak through and steal the cloak while the exhibit is closed. If someone were to wear this cloak to the Twisted Alchemist on August 1st, they would find a reasonable compensation for their troubles.

Of course, I'm not suggesting you do such a thing. I'm merely pointing out a bit of fact.

I await your decision.

Griffyn

Draco put the letter down and leaned back in his chair. Obee, another elf, brought him some tea and he took it gratefully, thanking the elf.

Who could have known that he was the one to kill Dumbledore? Who could have seen him? Why would they pick the Twisted Alchemist? They must have followed him, he realized with a start.

Who was Griffyn? It was an alias, surely, but it gave little hint as to who the person was. Griffyn for Griffindor? Was that a clue as to the person's Hogwarts house? It was a student then. Someone he knew.

He certainly wouldn't do this, he sniffed. Servants' work, hah! Malfoys do not answer to anyone.

But his father had answered to the Dark Lord.

And so had he, unwillingly of course.

And he would need something to do while he was here. He had enough money to live quite comfortably, but he would get bored.

Maybe this wouldnt be so bad, Draco mused. Causing ruckus and mayhem, that's what he did best. And if it put Kingsley and Moody behind bars, even better.

He called for a calendar, and a house elf brought one quickly. It was the 24th of July, so he had exactly a week to make his decision.

Tipping over the envelope, something fell out of it. Unshrinking the item, Draco saw that it was a shimmering black set of clothes. Assassins' clothes.

Retiring to his room, he put the clothes on, including the hooded cowl. Looking in the mirror, he realized that he looked like a professional thief.

From head to toe, he was black. The fabric was sturdy but soft, and the boots made no noise when he walked. They were tall, coming about halfway to his knee. They had black buckles that matched the buckles on his belt. The pants were tight, and he blushed at how they made him look. The shirt had long sleeves and the gloves were fingerless. His cowl came down over his face, leaving one hole for his eyes. The hood was large and shrouded his face in complete shadow.

All in all, he looked good.

Taking it all off and replacing it with his normal clothing, he went to make potions to help his thought process.


	2. Chapter 2

On July 31st, a gigantic crowd was gathered to mourn the Savior of the Wizarding World. Harry Potter's cloak rested on its pedestal, the only day of the year it was taken out of the Ministry Vaults. Hermione and Ron, now married, were standing at the front of the crowd, softly crying. Ginny wasn't there, too heartbroken to attend.

There was no speech, just a silent remembrance. Eventually the crowd dispersed, and the building the cloak was in closed down. At night, a figure in black sat on top of the building and looked at the security.

Draco had decided to do it, after all. He had been surprised when he put on the suit again, because it seemed to enhance his strength and speed, not to mention his agility. He had leaped to the top of the building by hopping onto others first, and he never knew he could do that. It was exhilarating.

There. The wizard that was guarding the pedestal had stepped out to continue his rounds. The next guard wouldn't come for another two minutes. Perfect time.

He swooped inside the building and grabbed the cloak, swiftly replacing it with a regular cloak he had purchased at Madame Malkins. The detecting spells didn't notice the difference, so Draco quickly left with the cloak.

The switch wasn't discovered until early, early the next morning.

Draco was still wearing the assasin's suit under the invisibility cloak as he slunk into the Twisted Alchemist. Standing off to the side of the store, where nobody was around, he wondered how Griffyn would find him. He was invisible! And how would he recognize Griffyn? Would Griffyn even show himself?

As he was wondering, he heard a voice behind him.

"My, my. Look at all those Wrackspurts! Draco, your head is full of them. These glasses really work!"

Draco turned around to see a figure in jeans and military boots, with a striped hoodie. The figure was slouching, obviously at ease, but they wore the hood up so Draco couldnt see their face. He probably would have been able to make out their eyes, if it hadn't been for the ridiculous pink glasses adorning the person's face.

He was staring so hard that he forgot the person couldn't see him, so when they coughed and said, "Am I that interesting or didn't you hear me?", he was startled.

Taking off the cloak, he balled it up in his hands. "Are you Griffyn?" He asked.

The person grinned, or at least he thought so. "That's me. Do you like my glasses? I borrowed them from a friend. They help me spot the Wrackspurts, tiny creatures that live in your brain. That's how I could see you."

Draco nodded slowly. Regaining his composure, he held out the cloak. "Here you go. Was that it?"

Griffyn nodded. "Oh yes. That's all I needed. This was a test, and I'm glad to say you passed. I'm looking forward to working with you."

Griffyn paused, falling silent. Even though Draco could see nothing of his face, he felt like the other man was studying him.

"You know," Griffyn said suddenly, "You have changed. I was expecting same old Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Git, but I think confinement's loosened you up just a bit. I'm glad. I chose you because I thought you would be the one least likely to try to discover who I am, but I think I had a hidden motive as well."

Draco was surprised to hear this, and a bit offended. "A hidden motive?"

"I think," Griffyn continued, as if Draco hadn't spoken, "I wanted to prove to myself that I could overlook the past. That if I made completely different choices this time around, that I truly would become a new person. And I think it's working."

Draco wasn't sure how to respond to this character realization, so he just fiddled with the cloak, aware of the scrutinizing gaze.

Suddenly Griffyn laughed. "Ha ha! Oh, this is perfect! Bit by bit, Draco, I'm going to tear the Ministry down to its knees, and then I'll chop off its head. Are you going to help me? Stand by me?"

Draco hesitated, then nodded. "I suppose." He said.

"Good." Griffyn tilted his head. "Good." He repeated more strongly. "I'll need you. I think we'll be a great team, you and I. Now then, if I may, I'll see you around."

He grabbed the cloak from Draco's hand, and as he walked away, Draco called, "Wait!"

Griffyn paused but did not turn around.

"How can we be a team if you know everything about me and I know nothing about you?" Draco asked, frustrated.

Griffyn chuckled. "Simple. You follow my orders, gain my trust, and then maybe I'll tell you more about me. I'll tell you one thing, though. Listening? I was in your year at Hogwarts. There, that's your hint. By the way, before I forget."

He turned and tossed a sack toward Draco, who caught it easily.

"There's your payment and your next assignment. When you complete it, wave your wand over the paper and it will change to reveal the location of a dead drop. It's too risky for you if we keep meeting. Have fun and don't get caught."

Griffyn walked off and turned the corner of the shelves. When Draco rushed after him, he saw a creature loping away out the door and down the street, but he couldn't see what type. There was no one else around.

When he got back home, he dropped the sack roughly on the floor. It let out a "mew!"

Looking at it oddly, he reached inside and pulled out something small and furry.

The small furry thing looked at him with big green eyes. It's fur was black and shaggy. It yawned, exposing sharp teeth and a very pink tongue.

Draco stared in shock at the baby kneazel. Kneazles were cat-like creatures who formed very strong bonds with humans and were very protective. They were also very cute.

Draco remembered his rule about attachments and set the kitten down. "Obee!" He called.

The house elf appeared with a pop. "Yes, Master Malfoy, sir?"

"Please take this thing away." Draco ordered.

Obee shifted on his feet, pulling his ears.

"What?" Draco demanded.

"Is just, Obee not want to interfere between a wizard and his familiar." The elf mumbled.

Familiar? Draco looked at the thing in his hands. The kneazel had bonded to him already? It was now sleeping.

Draco sighed. "Alright. Thank you, Obee, please go prepare dinner."

"Yessiree." Obee disappeared.

Draco sat on his bed with a thunk. "I suppose I should call you something." He said to the sleeping kitten. "You remind me of Potter." He looked at the cat, remembering his enemy. "I guess I'll call you Rival."

Trying to set down the kitten without waking him up, he gently deposited it on his bed. Some payment, he thought to himself. Digging through the bag, he pulled out the last item, a paper.

Scanning it, he found that his next assignment was to raid Cornelius Fudge's mansion. The former Minister of Magic was in possession of the list of dangerous weapons the Ministry possessed, through confiscating them or creating them. Draco was to steal this list and leave it at the next dead drop.

_I'll just go to bed and then do it in the morning_, he thought to himself. Changing into sleepwear, he lay down next to Rival and fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco woke up late the next morning. He was a bit surprised to see black fur all over his bed, but then remembered about the kneazel and sat up.

Dressing, he went down to breakfast, which his elves had prepared. It consisted of Belgian waffles, tea, and a fruit bouquet.

After he finished, he stood up, nearly tripping over Rival, who was sprawled out by his feet. Grumbling to himself, he went back upstairs to change into his suit.

Once he had it on, he apparated to outside Fudge's mansion. It had high security and gates. There were spells and traps embedded all over the place, so Draco was glad of his suit. Whispering an enchantment, he saw a path get highlighted around the yard and into the house. The spell was designed to show the fastest and safest route to the caster's destination. Draco had used this spell many times before and it had helped him enormously.

Following the path, he made sure to beware of magic anomalies that acted as attack dogs. They were stationed at various points outside the mansion, and Draco was sure there were a few inside as well. Once he reached the house, he scaled the wall and climbed in through a window.

Fudge was, luckily, away for the day, but Draco was cautious just in case. He kept following the spelled path and found the room where the ex-Minister stored important documents. There were hundreds upon hundreds of papers stacked upon each other, but the spell was not so in depth and it stopped just inside the door.

"Accio Weapons Account!" Draco yelled. One stack of papers suddenly shuddered and toppled as a list from the middle of it was pulled loose and soared into Draco's hand. He looked through it, making sure it was the one he needed, then went to retrace his steps. When he got outside, an alarm started ringing, startling him.

"Damnit! Anti-theft wards!" He cursed himself. He had forgotten to check the list for spells. Making a mad dash for the border of the property, he sent hexes after the anomalies that gathered around him and attacked. The moment he got over the gate, he disapparated.

When he appeared back at Malfoy Manor, he paused to let his heavy breathing slow. His heart was pounding and his lungs felt restricted from the running. As he panted, he saw Rival emerge from under a sofa and come up to him, rubbing against his legs and purring.

Smiling, Draco reached down to pet the feline. He snatched his hand back when he remembered his rule, but Rival's purring made him roll his eyes and scratch him behind the ears anyway. The kneazel kitten nearly collapsed from leaning into Draco's hand, and when he pushed the hand back against the kitten's head he was worried he would knock him over. Rival licked his hand and then bounded off. Draco thought he had noticed a difference in size from yesterday, but only a slight one.

Now that he had no distraction, Draco turned his attention to the paper. Fishing in the sack for it, he pulled it out and read it over. Just like he expected, the instructions had been replaced with the words: ALLEY BEHIND MADAME MALKIN'S, BURLAP SACK.

That must be the dead drop. Draco decided to go there quickly and collect his pay.

Flooing to Diagon Alley, he made sure he was inconspicuous as he made his way to Madame Malkin's. He found the sack easily enough and hoped fervently there was no animal inside. Looking over his shoulder for witnesses and seeing no one, he opened it up.

Immediately he was overcome by a powerful odor that wafted out from the inside. Draco sneezed once, then reached in a hand to pull out the offending item.

He gasped when he saw what it was. Troll ears! These were coveted potions ingredients, revered by every potions master and VERY hard to come by. It's not that trolls are difficult to overcome, a team of well-trained wizards and witches could take one down.

Or three first-year Gryffindors, Draco thought wryly.

But trolls were nearly extinct and they lived in very disperse areas. If a wizard found a troll, he would take great pains to preserve the ears, and he wouldn't give them away lightly. Griffyn must value him, Draco thought with an unexpected smile.

He replaced the ears in the sack and drew out his next mission. The paper read:

Good work, Draco. I knew I could count on you. That was a good choice of spell to use, I'm glad you know how to get around.

About your payment. I know that you have more than enough money. You're a Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. That's why I decided to do things differently. Both the things I have given you are clues to my identity. The kneazle and the troll ears both have something to do with me, but I won't tell you what. You'll have to figure it out on your own. I hope you like the kitten, and I hope he opens you up a bit. You can talk to him and trust that he won't tell your secrets.

Now for your assignment. Leave the list in this bag and take the ears. Your task is as follows:

I have knowledge of an urn that Minister Scrimgeour possesses. It holds the ashes of a powerful Dark witch, Bellatrix Lestrange. Her ashes could make a potion that would help me greatly. Retrieve the urn. In tact.

Complete this, and your next dead drop will appear on this paper.

Draco shook his head, annoyed at the vague clues, and at the way Gryffin sounded so personal and close to him. Then he pocketed the ears and took the paper, walking off to the Floo.

Back at home, Draco puzzled about how to get Bellatrix's urn. He couldn't bloody well walk in and ask for it.

He called from memory a map of the inside of the Ministry. When he had been a Deatheater, he had been shown a map every day until he could see it in his sleep. The burial chamber was on the third subfloor, and it was alphabetized. Bellatrix's urn would be… the 12th row. Now how to get into the ministry?

He threw on his SneakSuit, which he had decided to call it, and headed for the Floo. He would wing it.


	4. Chapter 4

So far, it was going smoothly. Draco supposed the Minister had been struggling as of late, as there were practically no guards and Draco had been able to get to the Burial Chamber quite easily.

Ten, eleven, Twelve! Draco started to skim the row of "L" names, trying to find Lestrange.

But then he stopped. In between Leslie and Letneed, there was nothing. No space for an urn.

Draco stomped his foot. He couldn't believe this. Where was his Aunt Bella?

He started scanning the walls, looking for a lever, a hidden panel, anything out of the ordinary. Something had to MOVE, there had to be a room, anything! Then he came back to where he started and banged his head on the wall. There was nothing.

As he was walking out, he caught his foot on something. He looked down, but he didn't see anything.

Excitedly leaning down, he smoothed his hand over the floor. There was a hatch, invisible from above, and when Draco pulled it, it revealed a set of stairs. He cautiously stepped down them, aware of the darkness surrounding him. Casting Lumos, he wasn't surprised to see various urns on pillars around the room.

Reading the labels, he saw names such as Beetle Gargalag, Tobias Squalius, and other strange names. Powerful wizards.

He saw one labeled Lucius Malfoy and his heart stopped. Next to it was Severus Snape. Draco had no idea that his father and godfather has been so powerful to deserve to be here.

Taking both of them, he shrunk them and charmed them not to come open. Sticking them in his pocket, he continued his search for Bellatrix.

There. Even her urn was gothic and crazy looking. Draco did the same thing he did to his father's urn and collected Bellatrix's. The urns clinked against each other in his pocket, but Draco wasn't worried about them breaking. Hurrying up the stairs, he exited the burial chamber and then the Ministry by Floo.

When he emerged in his bedroom, he gingerly pulled out the three urns. He enlarged them and set his father's and Snape's on his bedside table. Then he bowed his head and started to cry.

Rival came up and rubbed against his legs. Almost without realizing it, he scooped him up and buried his face in the kitten's soft fur. Rival mewed.

Feeling a little better about life, Draco set Rival down and looked around for his paper. It now read:

The Three Broomsticks, in the third room on the left.

Obee appeared as Draco set the paper down. "Master Malfoy, sir, dinner is ready!"

"Thank you. I'll be right down." Draco took one last glance at the urns and then went down to eat.

The next day, Draco went to his dead drop. He had to sneak past Tom, who was cleaning out the rooms, to get to the one that contained the dead drop. As soon as he reached it he closed the door and locked it with an unbreakable spell.

Searching the room, he discovered the paper in a cupboard. As well as something else.

He looked curiously at what looked to be a dog collar. Perhaps for Rival? He chose to read the note to see if it contained a clue to the gift.

Draco, I am truly surprised. You are just what the medic ordered for me. Someone who can take orders and actually follow through with them. You have completed three difficult tasks with relative ease. You're sort of like my pet, but I imagine you wouldn't like that term. Well, too bad! I'm your master, so I get to make the terms.

So, Draco, I've left you this gift for you to wear. Don't worry, the next one will more than make up for your displeasure. But it would please me greatly if you wore this. And I'll know.

Leave the urn in the cupboard, and here is your next assignment. At a place called the Burrow, which is where the Weasley family resides, is an old, decrepit owl named Hedwig. You might know of her? Harry Potter's owl. She has remained waiting for her owner since the day he disappeared. Now she is old and can no longer be a good pet. Arthur Weasley is planning to dispose of her. This is not to be allowed. I want you to steal Hedwig and give her a note, which is also in the cupboard. Tell her to deliver it to Padfoot's last resting place. She will fly off and your task will be done.

Her final day is August 15th, so you have until then.

By the way, have you figured out the clues yet? This clue is obviously not in the reward. I have put it in the task. Figure it out if you can.

With fond regards,

Griffyn.

Draco snarled as he clasped the collar around his neck. Pet indeed. How humiliating for a Malfoy to endure such… such SUBMISSION! He felt like a damn guard dog.

The collar was heavy and he did his best to ignore it. Finding the note for Hedwig and replacing it with the urn, he quickly left the pub. No need for Tom to walk in and see him like this.

He lounged in the parlor of Malfoy Manor. Knobby brought him tea and a slice of cake, and as he ate he pondered how to rescue Hedwig. He considered bargaining for the bird, but that would make the Weasleys suspicious. What would Draco want with Potter's owl?

Next he considered a Summoning spell, but those rarely worked on live creatures and he didn't want to risk it. The only thing left was to break in.

Easier said than done. Draco didn't even know where the Burrow was. He'd never been there before.

"I'll have to follow one of the Weasels." He thought. As he went to stand up, he became aware of a weight on his lap. Rival was curled up, asleep, snoring softly. Draco smiled in adoration of the kitten. Despite the rules, he had grown fond of the kneazel in such a short time.

Gently displacing him, he stood up and grabbed his cloak. He would go to the Ministry and find Arthur Weasely. That was the only member of the family who he knew where to find.

Disillusioned, he snuck into Weasley's office. The man was sitting at a desk, scribbling away at paperwork. Draco took something out of his pocket and tossed it at the man, satisfied when he saw it attach itself to his robes. It was a tracking beetle, a type of enchantment that would track the location of anything. Since Weasley was going to use the Floo to return home, it would be useless to wait around until his station was over. Nodding to himself, Draco left.


	5. Chapter 5

Deciding to reward himself for putting up with the collar for over two hours, he Flooed to Knockturn Alley, planning on stopping by the sweetshop there. It was run by a vampire, so nobody really went there except Dark wizards and teenagers on dares. Draco went there occasionally before he was sentenced.

Pushing open the door and hearing the bell, he walked up to the counter. It didn't look particulary dark by the decor, but the confections were slightly twisted.

The vampire was reading a book at the counter. He looked up when Draco cleared his throat.

"What'll it be?" He asked, voice gruff.

"Two Bloody Barons and a Lemon Lynch." Draco ordered.

The shopkeeper nodded and grabbed his tongs. Pulling a lemon bar and two raspberry-filled cupcakes from the display case, he bagged them and handed them over. Draco gave him the Galleons he owed and thanked him. The vampire smiled, exposing clean white fangs. Draco struggled not to gulp.

"Nice collar." The vampire commented. "I think I recognize it, actually."

Draco looked at him curiosly. "Recognize it? How?"

The other man shrugged. "There was a bloke in here the other day with that in his hand. Asked my opinion on it, that's how I remembered it."

"Did you see his face? What did he look like?" Draco couldn't believe it. Griffyn, at a sweetshop? Well, he did seem a bit childish.

The vampire thought. "Lemme see… yeah, he had really shaggy black hair. I couldn't make out his face because he was wearing a hood, and these really, really girly glasses. Said they were for spotting Wrackspurts, dunno what those are, but…"

Draco sighed. Figures. Griffyn was more clever than that.

"Hey, if you're wearing his collar, that must mean he likes you!" The vampire grinned. Draco looked at him curiously.

"Likes me?"

"Yeah, he said the collar was for someone he was completely infatuated with. I reckon since you have it, that must mean you." He chuckled. "Good luck with that one, mate. He ordered a Betrayal Bagette. Nobody orders those except folks planning big surprises."

"How would you know that?" Draco asked.

The vampire looked at him. "I've been in this business nearly twenty years. I know who buys what. I remember who buys what. I deduce who will buy what. And you, mate, want one more Betrayal Bagette for your friend. Here you go." He handed Draco the sweet.

Draco took it, placing it in his bag with the rest. "Thank you, Mr…?"

"Just call me Graves." The vampire shrugged. "But that might change next week. I have a things about names. They should describe you. Griffyn chose his name well, in my opinion."

"Thanks for the sweet, Graves. I'm Draco." Draco smiled, offering his hand.

Graves shook it. "I know. Last time you were here you ordered a Strawberry Splinching."

Draco remembered the milkshake with a fond grin. "Yeah, that was me. As I recall, you were Whisper then."

"Hey, come around back. We can chat properly." Graves gestured at the opening in the counter. Draco shimmied through and they both leaned against the table.

"So, what's the deal with you and Griffyn?" Graves inquired, reaching for a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm his sort of slave, I guess. He apparently needs me to do major jobs around the Wizarding World because he's a fugitive or something. And he's really smug about it. Calls me his pet, that's why I gotta wear this goddamned collar like a dog."

Graves winced in sympathy. "Well, why do you put up with it? You must get something out of it or you wouldn't go along with it."

"Honestly? I'm bored. After three years alone, I don't have many friends that I can hang out with, not that I'd want to anyway. I could get a job, but I have more than enough money and I'm kind of a sociopath, at least when surrounded by people. Besides, people still think of me as a former Death Eater." Draco sneered at the thought. "The only thing I might have enjoyed was being a Potions Master or an apothecary, but when Griffyn sent me a letter, well… I was intrigued. And he pays me well. Not in gold, but in other things."

"Such as?" Graves offered him a bean. Draco checked the color, then took it cautiously. It turned out to me Marshmallow.

"Well, first it was a black kneazel kitten with green eyes. Then it was troll ears. The last one was this stupid collar, but he promised the next one would compensate." Draco snorted.

Graves giggled. "And you have no idea who this guy is? He seems to know a lot about you."

"That's the thing!" Draco waved his hands. "He says that the gifts are clues to his identity, but they're absolutely no help! I mean, a kitten and troll ears? How are those clues?"

Graves shrugged. "Can't help you there, mate. Just have to wait it out and see."

Draco took out a cupcake and bit into it, annoyed. The bell on the shop door dinged.

Graves stood up at the sight of a large shaggy wolf that was padding along the floor. "Hey, Feather."

The wolf transformed into a witch with feathers in her hair. "Hey, Morpheus."

"It's Graves this week." The vampire corrected her.

"Oh yeah, forgot." The witch looked past Graves to Draco. "Who's he?"

"I'm Draco Malfoy, pleasure to meet you." Draco stood as well.

"Likewise. I'm Feather Jones. I'm an Animagus, 'case you couldn't tell." She laughed.

"The usual?" Graves asked her, already scooping a cone of pistacio ice cream.

"Thanks, babe." Feather sat on the counter and licked her cone.

"Draco here has a problem." Graves told her, leaning against the wall.

"Oh?" She looked at Draco. "Do tell."

Draco filled her in on his situation. She smirked. Graves put his face in his hands.

"Oh no, I know that look. Lay it on us, Feather." He mock-groaned.

Feather glared at him. Then she smiled. "Griffyn, or whatever his name is, is obviously someone who is well-known. If he was any fugitive, he wouldn't bother going through all this trouble. He would just Disilluion himself. He's famous… or, was. And he doesn't want to be recognized. By the way he seems to have a grudge against the Ministry, I would guess that he used to be a pawn for them and suffered some sort of injustice. And now he wants revenge."

Draco listened, raptured.

"By his alias, he was a Gryffindor in Hogwarts and was proud of that. But he's clever, very clever. He has Slytherin tendencies, if we're using school terms. He told you you know him?"

"He said he was in my year at Hogwarts." Draco confirmed. "Do you know who he is?"

"I can make an educated guess." Feather finished her cone and leaned back on the counter. "The kneazel looks like him? So he has black hair and green eyes. The troll ears? He's killed a troll. The name? He was a Gryffindor. He's famous. He wanted an invisibility cloak and an owl, both of which belonged to one person. Can you figure it out?"

Draco realized it when it was all laid out in front of him. The color drained from his face. "Potter…"

Graves howled with laughter. "That boy just earned a new respect from me. He's genius, absolutely genius! He wanted you to figure it out, Draco, or he wouldn't have made it this easy."

Draco sat in shock. Harry Potter, Git-Who-Lived, was Griffyn? Who supposedly fancied him? Who wanted to destroy the Ministry?

Feather chuckled along with Graves. "This is good! I'd never thought it possible. Maybe that's why he disappeared all those years ago. To rebuild his life."

Draco shook his head, clearing his thoughts. "I appreciate you guys helping me." He said. "Feather, I never would have figured it out without you."

"A women's intuition. Priceless." Graves mused. Feather smacked him.

"No problem, Draco. Here to help. Hey, you should come by some time again. I enjoy your company." Graves said, rubbing his head where Feather had hit him.

Draco smiled. "I'd like that. Alright."

The three of them went on chatting about various things for several more hours, until the bug that Draco had planted on Arthur Weasely started beeping.

"Whoops, he's on the move. I gotta go, see you guys later." He waved to the two and left the store.


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur Weasley yawned as he flooed back to the Burrow. Molly was in the kitchen when he got there, waving her wand at the pans and pots to make them wash themselves. He kissed her cheek and went to change out of his coat. Upstairs, there was a closed door. Arthur ignored it like he did every day. Inside, an owl hooted. He closed his eyes, then dropped his briefcase in his room and dared to go into Harry's room. Hedwig was on an owl post, her cage open. She ruffled her feathers. Arthur stroked her head, sad at the thought of putting her down. But she was old, and it didn't look like Harry was ever coming back.

Outside, there was a quiet whoosh as a man apparated. He straightened up, too regal to stumble or feel faint. He looked with distaste at the Burrow, then pulled out his wand, holding it at his side. Striding forward, he leaned against the side of the house. There were no wards up, evidently the Weasleys felt they had nothing to fear with Potter being gone.

Gryffin… Draco reminded himself. Then he cast a detecting spell. He saw faint glows coming from inside. They were the forms of Mr and Mrs Weasley, and there was a smaller one at the top window. Canceling the spell, he levitated himself up to the top floor. Hovering outside the window, he gently slid it open, casting Alohomora first. Slipping inside, the first thing he noticed was Hedwig sleeping. Her leg was tied to a post, which she rested upon.

He untied the rope. Hedwig woke, hooting sleepily. Draco shushed her, tying the letter he had gotten to her leg. "Take this to Padfoot's last resting place." He recited to her.

She stretched her wings, preparing for flight. Draco saw how shabby she looked and stroked her head. Poor old thing, he thought to himself. Waiting all these years for a master who never came back.

But he did come back… Draco shook his head as Hedwig launched herself into the air. Then he climbed out the window, hovering back down to the floor. Looking up to see the snowy owl flying off in the distance, he nodded to himself and Apparated back home.

Knobby brought him a cup of tea and Rival curled up on his lap. He sighed, stroking the kneazel with one hand and holding the cup with the other. He couldnt be bothered to go to the dead drop tonight. He'd do it tomorrow.

With warmth from two places, the feline and the tea, Draco fell asleep on the couch.

**Awww… that was a really short chapter. I'll tell you what, I'll upload the next chapter now. Two chapters at once? Woah man… blew my mind.**


	7. Chapter 7

When Draco woke up, it was to Knobby shaking his shoulder.

"Pardoning me, Master Malfoy, but yous be saying not to let you sleep past nine o'clock!" The house elf squeaked.

Draco stretched. "Yes, thank you. I did say that." Knobby nodded.

"Would Master be wanting breakfast?" He asked. Draco yawned.

"Yes." The elf scurried off. Rival had woken earlier and was gone, so Draco stood with no trouble.

After breakfast and a shower, Draco fastened the buttons on his shirt and went to read a book from the Malfoy Manor library.

Selecting A Tale of Mercadia and the Underwater Wizard by Gill Dupont, Draco sat poised in a chair and started on the first page. Hours passed, and Obee took a tray of lunch and another one for dinner in to him. Polishing it off, Draco returned to the book. When he had finished it, it was nearly dark outside. Casting a tempus charm, he saw that it was almost eight.

"Knobby! Prepare my bed!" Draco called as he exited the library.

There was no reply.

Draco called out again. Still no response. He grew worried. Changing his direction to check the kitchen, he found Knobby and Obee happily chatting with two unfamiliar elves. Well, when he stared curiously at the newcomers, he realized he did in fact recognize one of them.

"Dobby?" He asked in shock.

The elves all paused. Knobby and Obee, seeing their master, became sheepish, rubbing their hands together. Because they hadn't broken any rules, they didn't punish themselves, and besides, Draco didn't have them do such a thing anyway.

Dobby turned around. His eyes widened. "Master Draco! Hello, hello! Dobby did not be seeing you here! Dobby apologizes for not coming and speaking to you directly, but he thought you might not want to be seeing Dobby anymore."

Draco laughed. "Wouldn't want to see you? I missed you so much after you left. I feared Father had killed you until I saw you rescue Potter and his gangs from Aunt Bella. Then I worried you would get the wrong impression of me."

Dobby shook his head. "No wrong 'pressions, Master Draco. Dobby and Kreacher came to deliver a message from our new master!"

Draco looked at the other elf, who was rather old and looked grumpy. Kreacher sneered at him. "Filthy bloodtraitor." Dobby elbowed Kreacher.

"Master Draco is pure blood! He is not a bloodtraitor!" Dobby whispered loudly. Kreacher looked at Draco out of the corner of his eye, then humphed, but did not give Draco any more trouble.

Dobby looked apologetic. "Dobby is sorry, Sir. Kreacher is the Black family elf, and he is not friendly to anyone but our master."

"I am part of the Black family." Draco looked at Kreacher again, but the elf did not change his attitude.

"Like I said, sir, he's only friendly to Master." Dobby elbowed Kreacher again.

"Who is your new master?" Draco asked, curious. Who had Dobby belonged to all these years?

"Master Harry Potter, sir. Dobby was a free elf, but he missed Master Potter, so he followed him. When Master left the Wizarding Community, Dobby went too, so Master Potter asked Dobby to be his house elf. Kreacher is his, too, because Master Potter is the new Lord Black." Dobby said in a rush of breath. Kreacher sniffed, then added, "Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black."

Draco froze. Potter. So it was true. Harry Potter was Gryffin. Dobby pulled on Draco's pant leg. "Is Master Draco alright?"

Draco shook his head. "Yes, Dobby, I'm fine. Go ahead and tell me your message."

Dobby nodded, clearing his throat. "Harry Potter requests the presence of one Draconis Malfoy at Gladstone Manor on the 17th of August at precisely 12 o'clock. He asks that you come alone and tell no one. Oh, and that you bring Firewhisky."

Draco chuckled. "Firewhisky?"

"Master Potter's run out."

**There you go, two short chapters at the same time. Satisfied? I hope so. Together, they should compensate for their individual…. shortness.**


	8. Chapter 8

Draco stood outside Gladstone Manor, staring at the place. Admittedly, it wasn't what he was expecting. But this was Potter, did he really have enough knowledge to set expectations?

In his hand was a case of Firewhisky. Shrugging his shoulders, he walked up the path to the ramshackle farmhouse that lay before him. An old chicken coop was nearly falling apart close by, and a wooden rocking chair sat on the porch. Draco wrinkled his nose. Potter lived here?

Knocking on the door, he felt it creak open. Surprised at the lack of security for someone as famous as Potter, he stepped inside-

-and remembered that Potter was the most powerful wizard of their year. Why should he believe the front?

Here was the real manor. Lush gardens led up to a pristine stone mansion, surrounded by bushes and trees. Draco allowed himself a wry smile. He had no idea Potter was so… extravagant. He could even spot a pond with a fountain shaped like a fish.

As he walked toward the manor, he saw that there actually was a farm included. What were those things?

Detouring, Draco admired the skeletal equines in a pen. Among them, he spotted several hippogriffs, but he focused on the slightly creepy animals. In the feeding trough, there were several cuts of raw meat along with grain.

"Beauties, aren't they?" Draco just barely stopped himself from flinching. He hadn't noticed Potter come up behind him.

"What are they?" Draco asked, enchanted.

"They're called Thestrals." Potter told him, leaning on the fence. One of them trotted up, and he threw it a piece of meat. It caught it and crunched through the bone. "They carry the carriages at Hogwarts."

"The carriages carry themselves." Draco said, confused.

Potter smiled. "No. But Thestrals are invisible to most. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you can see them."

"What do you mean?" Draco looked back at the Thestrals. They ruffled their wings, preening imaginary feathers.

"One can only see a Thestral when they can appreciate what death really means. In most cases, this means seeing someone die." Harry explained. "You must have seen many deaths at the battle, I suppose."

Draco nodded. "And some of them I caused."

"I know." Harry whistled. From among the creatures, a hippogriff raised it's head. Harry whistled again. The animal came trotting up to the pair. Harry bowed, and the hippogriff bowed back. It's feathers were grey-blue, and Draco sucked in a breath, unconsciously stepping back. "Is that…?"

"Buckbeak?" Harry finished for him. "No, Buckbeak passed on a year ago. I guess he must have been old. I'm not sure about his age, he must have been at least eight when Hagrid first introduced us. This is his colt, Larkmoor." Larkmoor perked an ear at the mention of his name.

Draco looked up at the beast. "They look quite alike."

"Yes." Potter agreed. "Larkmoor is my personal mount. Well, they're all mine, but Larkmoor's my special favorite." He grinned at the animal. "His sire inspired me to start a ranch for magical creatures."

Draco nodded. "He is beautiful."

Potter hopped the fence. Climbing up on the hippogriff, he said, "Let's go for a ride."

Draco stared at him. "What?"

"Leave the Firewhisky, Dobby or Kreacher will get it." Potter smoothed his fingers through Larkmoor's feathers. "Oh! Do you know how to ride?"

"Yes, I know how to ride, but not how to fly. And hippogriffs don't really like me." Draco admitted.

"They didn't like you when you were young, because you were arrogant. I expect house arrest has taught you some humility." Harry looked at the animals in his pen. "Hmm… Larkmoor has a sister, Bitterblue. I think she would be a good mount for you."

He clucked his tongue. A pretty and lively hippogriff approached them, coat a vivid shade of shocking blue. She bowed immediately to Draco and Potter, then squawked at her brother, who snorted and flicked his tail.

"Well, come on then. Bow to her." Potter gestured to Draco. "Still a ladies' man?"

"Oh, alright." Draco took a bow, and when he straightened he saw Bitterblue kneel down to his level. Hopping the fence like Potter had, he shakily climbed on her back, using her wing joint as a foothold. When she stood tall, Potter steered Larkmoor toward the fence. With a wave of his hand, it flew open and Potter urged Larkmoor forward.

"Let's go, Draco." Draco looked at his mount. Bitterblue seemed to sense that she had an inexperienced rider and walked steadily forward. Draco clung to her neck. When both creatures were out of the pasture, Potter shut the fence and kicked Larkmoor's sides with his boots. Larkmoor leapt into a canter and then a gallop, rising into the air with each hoofbeat. Bitterblue followed, and soon both hippogriffs were soaring well above the trees.

"Where are we going?" Draco shouted to Potter, thankful that the animals seemed to know where to head and so he didn't have to try and steer.

"A spot in the mountains." Potter yelled back. "Nice for a chat."

As it strained his voice to shout, Draco didn't reply, and the rest of the flight was made in relative silence.


	9. Chapter 9

Larkmoor and Bitterblue finally landed, touching down in a clearing surrounded by trees. Draco scrambled off his hippogriff immediately. It was nothing like riding a broom, and he knew which one he preferred. At least brooms didn't have feathers that scratched you when you sat on them.

Bitterblue stood around while Potter dismounted Larkmoor, but at the sight of some woodland creature scurrying away, she tore after it, snapping it up.

Potter took a dead ferret off a chain around his neck and threw it in the air. Larkmoor leaped and caught it, crunching it happily.

"Let's take a walk." He said to Draco. "They'll stay here until we return."

He started walking and Draco caught up to him. "Okay, I have questions."

"Shoot." Draco looked at Potter oddly. Potter rolled his eyes. "It's a muggle expression, it means ask your questions."

"Okay. First of all, what the bloody hell happened to you? Disappear and then show up five years later?" Draco controlled his voice, although he wanted to scream the words.

Potter chuckled. "Wrong question. Try again."

Draco paused. Then he asked, "Why are you back?"

"You're asking them all in the wrong order, Draco." Potter taunted.

"Potter…" Draco growled.

"Please, call me Harry."

"Harry. What should I be asking?" Draco was exasparated.

"You should be asking why I want to bring the Ministry to its knees." Harry answered. "That's the most logical question."

Oh yes, Draco remembered Harry's goal. "Well, why? What did the Ministry do to you?"

Harry looked straight ahead as the two walked. Then he spoke. "Five years ago, I defeated Voldemort and his Deatheaters. Singlehandedly, I blew Voldemort to ashes. Of course, everyone helped in the battle, and I was immensely grateful. I couldn't have done it without them. I didn't even want the credit for killing him. I just wanted it all to be over and done with, so that I could live a normal life.

"But the Minister, not Fudge, obviously, Minister Scrimgeour by then, seemed determined to have the opposite. At the afterparty, the one at Hogwarts, everyone was happy. It was done, no more terrorizing or killing. I was happy, finally." Harry scrunched his face. "I left to go, oh, I don't remember where. But I found myself in Dumbledore's office, paying my respects for the dead. And they couldn't even leave me that moment of peace."

***FLASHBACK***

"Mr. Potter? I word, if I may."

Harry looked behind him. "Minister? Hello, sir. If you would, allow me to pay my respects in peace for a moment."

"No time, Harry, we must get to talking about your future." Minister Scrimgeour said cheerfully, tossing an arm around Harry and steering him away.

"My future, sir? What about it?" Harry asked, trying to get out of the man's grip.

"Well, my boy, surely you've thought about what you want to do when you graduate! An Auror, I heard? We could always use a wizard like you in our ranks, I already have a place for you. Now, don't worry about your grades, I understand if you're not so good at, say, Potions. You'll get the spot either way-"

"Isn't that favoritism, sir? I think that's illegal." Harry said, shocked.

"Favoritism? No no no, of course not." Scrimgeour reassured Harry. "I simply recognize that you could do a world of difference as an Auror."

"Actually, sir, I don't think I do want to be an Auror after all." Harry tried to explain. "I actually want to be a magical creature breeder. I want to start a farm, a safehaven for all those animals that-"

"Nonsense, my boy!" Scrimgeour clapped his shoulder. "You're just a teenager, what would you know about your future? That's why you need me here to make decisions for you! So, an Auror-"

"No, sir." Harry said forcefully. "I won't be an Auror."

Scrimgeour raised his hands. "We'll talk about this at a later date. Anyway, what are you going to do about the press?"

"Press?" Harry thought about a certain blond witch with a quickquotes quill. "I was just going to ignore them."

"Ignore them? Harry, you can't do that!" Scrimgeour laughed. "The public loves you. It's your duty to give interviews and speeches and talk to newspapers."

"With all due respect, how is it my "duty?"" Harry looked at Scrimgeour skeptically.

"Well, your life is our life!" The man said. "It's our right to know what you do in your life." He said. "What you wear, where you live, what you do."

"Like a celebrity?"

"My boy, you ARE a celebrity!" Scrimgeour said, smiling. "And as such, we deserve to know everything about you."

"I don't feel comfortable with this, Minister, really." Harry said, pushing away. "I'd rather not have people know everything about me. I just want to lead a normal life and be a creature breeder. So, thank you, but I will not need that position in the Aurors or the press clambering for interviews. I will not give any."

Minister Scrimgeour narrowed his eyes. "Harry, you're making a mistake. I could just as easily arrest you for using dark magic. Or you could be an Auror."

"Are you blackmailing me?" Harry's eyes widened.

"Of course not, Harry. I'm giving you a choice. I could always throw your friends in Azkaban, also. Running from the police, using magic outside of Hogwarts. I believe you were let off for blowing up your aunt in your third year. Shall I charge you for that?"

"Don't threaten my friends, sir." Harry snarled. "And don't blackmail me. Give me a day to think over your… generous offer."

"Of course, Harry." Scrimgeour smiled. "I'll call upon you again tomorrow. Farewell." He left Harry alone in the Headmaster's office.

Harry sank down to the floor, dazedly thinking over the conversation. It was as if Scrimgeour thought he owned him…

With a start, Harry realized that was exactly what Scrimgeour thought. What was the word he had used? The right. It was the public's RIGHT to know everything about Harry.

Harry narrowed his eyes. He was eighteen. He was of age in the Wizarding World. He didn't have to listen to the Minister's absurd blackmailing.

But then Ron and Hermione would get arrested… And he didn't want to be arrested OR become an Auror.

He didn't know what to do. From behind him, he heard a bird shriek. Smiling a bit, he patted his shoulder. Fawkes, still in the office even after his master died, flew up and perched on Harry's shoulder.

"What should I do, Fawkes?" Harry asked the bird, stroking it's head.

Fawkes stared into his eyes. Harry made up his mind. Standing up, he said to Fawkes, "Can you do that transporting thing you did for Dumbledore?" Fawkes nodded, spreading his wings and flying off Harry's shoulder. Hovering a bit over Harry's head, he shrieked again. Hesitantly, Harry raised his hands to clasp the phoenix's talons. With a flash, Fawkes transported them outside Hogwarts. It felt a bit like Apparation, and Harry struggled not to be sick.

He let go of Fawkes. "Where are we?" Fawkes hopped to the ground and strutted a bit, then flew away.

"Bloody bird." Harry muttered. Then he looked around. It was Grimmauld Place. He considered staying there, but realized he would quickly be found. He wanted a place to live where nobody would find him. He would drop off the grid, and build that farm he wanted.

Deciding to go into Grimmauld Place and get supplies, he walked up the path and opened the door. It was dark, so Harry cast Lumos and looked around.

He would need money. Going to his room, he collected every bit of change lying around, quite a lot. Pocketing it, he heard a grumbling behind him. Getting an idea, he said, "Kreacher? I need your help."

"Of course, Master Potter. Kreacher serves the Black family." The house elf coughed.

"Take me to a place where I can build a manor, and a large plot of land, where I will be sure never to be found unless I wish to." Harry instructed.

"Yes, Master Potter." Taking Harry's hand, Kreacher Apparated them to a place Harry didn't recognize. It was large, and scenic.

"Thank you, Kreacher." Harry thought about what he would need. He would need contractors to build the manor itself, he would furnish it himself, and then he would need to buy animals. He would need to Obliviate anyone who helped him. He could do that.

His wand! It could be tracked if he cast spells. He would need a new one…

"Kreacher! I need you to take me to Diagon Alley, please."

A few minutes later, Ollivander recieved an unexpected visitor.


	10. Chapter 10

Ollivander felt a chill on his spine. He was resting in the back room of his shop, weak from his imprisonment and interrogation of the war. When he stood to see who the customer was, he picked up a cane and leaned on it heavily.

"Harry, my boy! So good to see you!" He smiled warmly as he hobbled into the store. The boy grinned back at him.

"Hello, Mr. Ollivander. How are you feeling?" He asked, concerned.

"A good day, today." Ollivander reassured him. "Almost my old self."

"Glad to hear it. Listen, sir, I need a favor." The boy lowered his voice. "I need a wand, off the books. I'll pay proper for it, but you can't tell anyone. Please?"

Ollivander looked gravely at Harry. "I can do that, lad, but mind me asking why?"

Harry shook his head. "I can't tell you. But somethings going to happen that you'll hear about, and maybe you'll understand a bit."

Ollivander nodded. "If that's what you want, Harry. I remember your first wand well, you know. You did many great things with it. Is it broken?"

"No, I've still got it, it's in good condition, too." Harry told him. "But it's easy to track a person if you know their wand."

"That's true." Ollivander eyed the boy curiously. Tracking? "Well, I'm happy to say that I've already got a wand for you. Your bird flew in a few hours ago, gave me a nasty shock. Great Phoenix like that, appearing in my workshop. Didn't know what it wanted, at first. Then it dropped one of its tail feathers and just looked at me. I figured I better not muck up a chance like that, so I took it and fashioned it into a wand right there. I was in a bit of a stump as to what to do with it. Glad you came along." He hobbled behind some shelves and reappeared with a wand that looked newly made. "Try this one, but I'm sure I already know what'll happen."

Harry reached out and clasped the wand's hilt. Immediately, a rush of magic blew his hair and he laughed. It was just like when he was eleven and got his first wand! Ollivander got a twinkle in his eye.

"There, I was right. That's some bird you got, Harry."

"He's not mine, he's Dumbledore's." Harry told him, putting the wand in his pocket.

"He's yours, now, my boy." Ollivander said. "Now, you better get out of here. I won't tell anyone, and that wand is only a few hours old. It hasn't been recorded in the books, yet. It's like it doesn't even exist. Good luck, Harry."

"Thanks you, sir." Harry waved as he exited the shop. Kreacher was waiting for him, and when he saw Harry he held up his hand. The two were Apparated to a Wizarding city elsewhere, where Harry could contract a manor to be built at his location.

Disguising his face with a spell, he hired several wizards and witches to build the manor itself. While that was happening, he hired another team to lay the wards and do the spellwork. The gardens, he had Dobby and Kreacher plant. The process of building Gladstone Manor took several months, during which time Harry stayed in an inn in England. Nobody knew it was Harry Potter, he made sure of that.

When the manor was completed and Harry had furnished it and everything, he paid and, steeling himself, Obliviated every person he had come into contact with. He nearly cried at what he had done, but reminded himself that he had paid for their efforts well. Dobby and Kreacher then hid the manor beneath a spell that made it appear to be a simple farm shed, and Harry felt safe enough to start his farm.

The ranch was already built, he just needed to find the creatures. By now, he had mastered Apparition, though he had no license. Traveling to the Hogwarts woods, the Forbidden Forest, he explained his needs to the centaurs. Firenze and the others remembered Harry Potter well and in good light, and so they helped him. Leading him to a herd of wild Thestrels that had been caught in a fire, they helped him round them up. The centaurs had tried to help the animals, but they were rough and not good at healing. Harry brought the Thestrels to his ranch and nursed them back to health. They were the first addition.

Buckbeak was next. Harry realized he never saw his friend again after Sirius left, so he cautiously returned to Grimmauld Place to find records of what Sirius had done with him. He found the hippogriff in Wales, among a herd. Buckbeak was the lead stallion and Harry had no trouble coaxing him back to Gladstone Manor. His herd came with him. They were the second addition.

The Phoenixes were third. Harry traveled to various stores to collect each and every specimen that he could find. Fawkes was a great help, disappearing and reappearing, each time with another bird. Harry found the Chinese Phoenixes, red and orange and gold, like Fawkes, the Indian Phoenixes, silver and blue and white, the Egyptian Phoenixes, green and brown and yellow, and even a rare Golden Phoenix, all feathered in one color. The birds had a large and beautiful coop, bigger than a barn, where they could nest and lay comfortably. Most of them chose to fly free during the day and return at night, as Harry would never trap any of his animals and let them roam as they wished. Fawkes was a full-time resident.

As much as Harry wished for a dragon, he knew they were too wild to tame and to large to keep. He had the space, but a dragon would spook and surely harm his other animals. Besides, it was incredibly dangerous. Luckily, he traveled to Romania anyway, checking up on his friends. Charlie Weasley, who he had gone to make sure was still safe, had just discovered a new breed of dragon, the Romanian Pixy. It was a dwarf dragon, growing no bigger than a large dog at most. Excitedly, Harry hunted for one he could take home. Finding a juvenile that had been abandoned by it's mother, he rescued it and brought it back to Gladstone Manor. He spent months trying to tame it, and when the creature became docile he took it on as his personal familiar and let it live in the manor. The animal hopped about the house like a dog and charred several couches. Harry named it Anguis and the two became very close, often leading to Harry trying to work and Anguis clawing at his legs in an vie for attention. Harry had to get special dragonhide trousers so his legs weren't clawed to shreds.

Deciding he wanted to be closer to Sirius and his father, he studied to be an Animagus. He sent Dobby to buy books and practiced out in the gardens. After two months, he could change his eyes and his teeth. After three more, he grew splotches of fur and a tail. Four more months and he shifted his legs into haunches, which was extremely uncomfortable without the torso to match. Nearly a month later, he fully transformed into a black panther. A bit disappointed at his Animagus, (he wished it to be a shaggy black dog, or a stag), he looked up symbolism of the panther. Protective, a fighter, temperamental, independent, determined, and impulsive, were all traits that a panther symbolized and that he thought himself to be, so he accepted his form and even came to like it. The first time he changed in front of Anguis, he gave the dragon a fright and had to pounce on top of a dresser to avoid being flamed. Anguis eventually came around to his Animagus, but never really liked it, preferring instead to grudgingly follow and occasionally snap at his tail. The animals on the farm didn't react well at first, either, the Phoenixes especially, but because every animal could easily put up a fight for a panther they allowed him to come close, and when he changed back they learned it was Harry. They didn't give him much trouble in either form. His Patronus remained a stag, which pleased but confused Harry to no end.

Sometimes wild creatures wound up in Harry's pens or in the stables or ranch. Several times Harry had to rush out to stop a fight between a hippogriff and a manticore, or chase off some fairies who were trying to pluck the Phoenixes' feathers. The strangest thing he saw was a pregnant Blast-Ended Skrewt give birth in the Phoenix coop. The little buggers tried to eat the eggs, so Harry carefully transported the mother and infants to the corner of the ranch and set up a pen so the other creatures wouldn't attack them. They spent a few weeks before the mother wandered off, bringing the infants with her.

Harry was content in his manor, caring for his creatures. Dobby even got Kreacher to warm to Harry, though he was still a bit grouchy. Harry loved life on the farm, so to speak, but he still was a bit ticked at the Ministry.

It got to the point where Harry would spend hours sulking and hating the Minister, Anguis at his feet. One day Harry stared at the dragon and was reminded of his old foe, a certain Draco Malfoy. Deciding he was curious of what became of the boy, he Apparated to Malfoy Manor. He saw Draco reading a book, and an idea hatched. A plan, involving Draco, to take down the Ministry. Harry returned to Gladstone Manor, where he formed the plan deeper and made preparations. His depression erased itself and he was gleeful, waiting for the proper time to put the plan into action.

While he was plotting, he still cared for the animals. He went for daily rides on Buckbeak, and groomed each animal as often as he could. When creatures became pregnant, Harry penned them separately and gave them extra attention. The Thestrals and Hippogriffs especially needed help delivering, so Harry read up and became an expert at recognizing the signs of a mare with child. One yellow hippogriff, who he had named Daffodil, gave birth to two foals who looked remarkably like Buckbeak. It was made even more evident their heritage when the herd leader took an interest, sniffing the two and trying to get into the pen. Harry named the two Larkmoor and Bitterblue. Buckbeak later sired one more foal, a black colt Harry named Witherwings. Luna Lovegood took a fond interest in this hippogriff.

Deciding a year after he left the Wizarding World that he needed a friend and might as well choose somebody who could recognize him anywhere, he dropped by Luna's house. She was happy to see him, even predicting his visit. He explained his disappearance, and she took no offense at it. She even visited him at Gladstone Manor, telling him all about his friends and what was going on in London. The two became best friends, and when Luna and Neville married, he came to the wedding as a panther, sitting in the back on his haunches and swishing his tail. His heart ached when he saw his friends from school, but he held firm and resisted turning back to a human. Luna, during the reception, leaned down in front of him and buried her face in his fur.

"Thank you, Harry. You can't visit me anymore, but I will still come to Gladstone." Then she had joined Neville and the others, and Harry had sadly slunk out the back and Apparated home. True to her word, Luna visited often and the two talked. She took quite a liking to Anguis, who returned the sentiment, and loved to ride the Thestrals and Hippogriffs. Witherwings especially, though he was still a young colt when Luna first met him, loved her immediately and when he was strong enough, Luna rode him while Harry rode Larkmoor through the forest.

Hermione and Ron married four years after Harry left, and Harry went to their wedding as well, but disguised, staying back and gazing at their radiant faces, wishing with all his heart that he could congratulate them. He saw Ginny, too, and expected to be overcome with affection, but somewhere along the road he had fallen out of love with her and felt only friendship. It didn't help, as he couldn't talk to her anyway.

Buckbeak grew old and could no longer support Harry on flights, so instead the boy, now a young man, would walk with him through the forest, Anguis at their heels. He tried to lead Buckbeak once, but quickly remembered the hippogriff's pride. Buckbeak would walk by his side wherever Harry went, and Harry would speak to him outloud about his thoughts and about the farm. He carried dead ferrets on a chain like Hagrid did, and would toss his friend one occasionally as a treat. One day, he could not find Buckbeak in the ranch. He wasn't anywhere on the manor grounds, so Harry spent hours combing through the forest trying to locate the hippogriff. He found him under a giant tree, laying down and breathing heavily. Realizing sadly why the animal had wandered off, he kneeled by the creature's side and stayed with him, hugging his neck, as Buckbeak drew his last breath. Burying him properly, without magic, under the tree, he held a vigil for the night and returned to the manor in the morning. Somehow, Larkmoor and Bitterblue seemed to know what happened and became Harry's new go-to mounts. They were three years old when their sire died, and Witherwings was six months.

Harry named each animal he had, and remembered every one. The Thestrals and Hippogriffs were constants, always leaping and flying off but returning to the ranch. The Phoenixes were more unpredictable, but the regulars had names and the visitors were christened every time Harry saw a new one. The animals adored him, though he did come close to losing limbs when he tried to break up fights of dominance. He acquired several scars, which he welcomed, oddly enough. He liked his scars. They showed that he had fought his own battles, instead of just "winning" one when he was an infant.

His ranch grew as the animals bred, and new additions were added as Harry rescued creatures. A lake was installed to house the hippocampi Harry found wounded in a forest pond. Plimpies and Grindylows took advantage and moved in. A brood of Augureys, Irish Phoenixes, were added to the Phoenix coop, after Harry expanded it, and later a Jobberknoll or two. Several Bowtruckles took up residence in the trees on the grounds. One of the female Hippogriffs "made friends" with a lone Granian that appeared one day, it's foal being in the likeness of it's sire, a grey, winged horse, and very fast. A Mooncalf was spotted in the forest, so Harry lured it out during the full moon and collected it's silver dung to spread on the garden. Much to Harry and Luna's delight, a Mackled Malaclaw moved into the coastline around the lake, and the two used to go down and taunt it into biting them, but two months later it left. No surprise there, Harry reasoned. The bite of a Malaclaw will make whoever it bit lucky for up to a week.

Once, Harry even saw a unicorn, but it didn't like him, preferring instead Luna, who was able to stroke it before Anguis scared it off

Harry kept tabs on Draco, even going so far as to break into the Department of Records to see when he was let off house arrest. He wasn't so good at the stealth anymore, he had built up muscle, proving to himself that he needed Draco. When the day came, Harry sent Dobby to deposit the letter on Malfoy Manor's doorstep, and that's how the partnership started. Harry, admittedly, stalked Draco a bit when he went out, in panther form. He left from their first meeting in his Animagus shape. The glasses, he had gotten from Luna.

***END FLASHBACK***


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry it's taken me so long to upload! I just didn't know what to write for this next chapter. Some of this is just me wanting to come up with cute pet names, so don't be too hard on me! There is some actual plot, don't worry. I actually deleted this chapter and had to start all over again, so… yup. Review and let me know what you think, please! DFTBA! Blair out.**

Draco was more or less in awe at Harry's story. He had done very well for himself over the years, with only his animals and Luna for company.

"Pity you didn't come visit me during that time." Draco commented. "It got lonely in house arrest."

Harry grinned. "Would you have responded that way back then? I think not."

"You're probably right." Draco said. "Still, now we both have one more friend out there. I don't know if you've heard, but I don't have many people willing to talk to me after the war."

"Yes, I figured. Not even your mates from school?" Harry asked.

Draco tried to think. "Crabbe died in the fire in the Room of Lost Things-"

"Where you owed me your life." Harry coughed into his hand.

"Yes, I owe you a life debt. Let's move on." Draco glared. Harry looked at him curiously.

"Are you not sad about Crabbe's death?" He asked. "I thought you two were good friends."

"Well..." Draco tried to explain. "I was mournful, at first. A death is always sad. And we were friends, but he was more like a... a bodyguard. He wasn't terribly bright, but I did still miss him. But the war sort of made his death fade into the other casualties. Plus, five years of solitude hardens you, I suppose."

"I understand that." Harry agreed. "What about your other friends?"

"Goyle was... never the same after the war." Draco said. "I think he ended up in St. Mungo's after he tried to murder a muggleborn. Pansy and Blaise were arrested for being Deatheaters. Astoria... I heard from her once or twice after Voldemort's defeat, but her sister, Daphne, was killed, and she moved to Scotland to forget. Theodore Nott now runs a bookshop in Knockturn Alley, and Millicent Bode is an assistant poison maker in Eve Alley. I don't speak to them any more."

Harry nodded in sympathy. "Well, you have Graves and Feather, right?"

"How do you know about that?" Draco asked sharply. Harry grinned sheepishly.

"I did mention stalking you a bit?"

Draco shook his head. "Well, you must promise to stop. I won't get any sleep elsewise."

"Sure, Draco." Harry found that they had returned to the clearing where they had left the hippogriffs. "What do you say we go back to Gladstone and I introduce you to the animals? If you're going to be coming round often it would help so you don't spook them."

"Who said I would be coming round often?" Draco followed Harry as he called to Larkmoor and Bitterblue.

"I did." Harry winked as he climbed onto Larkmoor's back. Draco was a bit taken aback but got onto Bitterblue and launched into the air after Harry.

Once they had safely landed back at Gladstone, Harry held up his hand to his mouth and let out the loudest whistle Draco had ever heard. Several animals grunted. Harry laughed. "Sorry, folks!"

"What was that for?" Draco grumbled, rubbing out his ear.

"You'll see." Harry had an evil grin on. "How about I take you 'round and introduce you to the animals?"

Draco straightened up. "Really?" Then he thought about it. "Well, are you sure they'd like me? Like I said, I'm not good with animals."

"Yeah, it'll be great." Harry gestured to follow him. "I'll show you the equestrians first."

Just as Draco took a step towards Harry, he heard a quick, loud beating of wings. Ducking just in time to avoid being barreled over, he saw black wings fly overhead. Flailing a bit before finding his balance, he noticed Harry on the ground, being nibbled by a small dragon. Harry was laughing and scratching the dragon's scales.

"Draco, this is Anguis. He's my familiar." Harry knocked the dragon off of himself and stood up. Anguis, not in the least discouraged, clambered about Harry's feet, spouting flames. Harry tweaked his nose. "No fire near the boss." He scolded.

Draco watched the encounter with varying degrees of nervousness and amusement. "Anguis? I didn't believe you when you said you had domesticated a dragon. I thought it was impossible."

Harry chuckled, letting Anguis nip at his fingers. "Yep. Like I said, a recently discovered breed. Romanian Pixies are just as dangerous as any other dragon unless you get them young and you have some sort of touch with creatures. They're so rare, though, I doubt anyone else will be able to capture one alive. Anguis is the size of large dog and acts like one, too. Tries to curl up on me when I'm sleeping, he does. The brute."

Draco stretched out his hand. Anguis sniffed it, then puffed some hot smoke out onto his fingers. Draco flinched.

"It's okay. He did this with Luna, too. He's just sizing you up. He should stick by me most of the time, don't worry." Harry told him. "Now, how about that tour?"

"Okay. How many animals do you have?" Draco asked, following along side as Harry started walking.

"It's a very large sanctuary." Harry said. "Almost twenty hippogriffs and two herds of thestrals. The granian colt is around somewhere. In the Phoenix coop, we have some regular and some flitting in and out. It's pretty evenly divided between the Chinese, the Indian, and the Egyptian, with some augureys and a Golden nesting there. A few Jobberknolls, too. I'd say forty in all with nests, and then another forty who come but don't stay. Down at the lake there's maybe six hippocampi and a whole load of aquatic menaces. I can name each animal on this farm and that's an accomplishment I'm quite proud of." He beamed as they made they're way to the pens. Draco looked at him in amazement.

"That's quite a feat." He said. "Suppose I better get out flash cards."

Harry lightly punched his shoulder. "Here's the equine pens. I'll rattle off some names of the ones here at the moment." He hopped the fence and looked around.

"Over in that corner is part of a herd of Thestrels." He said. "The big one is the leader, I call him Vaeil. Next to him is his main female, Shadow. The one laying down is Cavern and the one that just finished eating is Darling. The two colts are twins, a rather remarkable feat, but their names are Twisted and Bones. Hey, Thestrals are scary looking beasts," He added, at Draco's look. "Gotta have names to match."

""Darling"?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Doesn't it just strike fear into your heart?" Harry joked. "And now onto the hippogriffs." He wandered over to lean on the fence. Anguis busied himself trying to sniff a pink hippogriff filly, who put up a fight. "That little girl is Spunky, she's got gall. Her mother, that red one, is Mistrun and I think the sire is Cloudpart, the grey one that towers over the others. Next to him is Churchill, the blue, and Ratha, the green. Hmm, that yellow one over there is Sunshine and the purple, mean-looking one is Kitshot. She's a sourpuss. Over there by Larkmoor and Bitterblue is Witherwings, see the smaller black one? He's Luna's favourite. In the corner is- Hey!" Harry broke off to split up a battle between a hippogriff colt and the Granian colt. The two were stabbing at each other with their hoofs and beating their wings. Harry drew his wand, casting noise crackers at their feet. Snapping his fingers at Anguis, he yelled, "Break it up!" Anguis leaped into the air, coming down right between the two. He drove the Granian away while Harry grabbed the hippogriff colt in a headlock.

"This little bugger is Mischief. Really should put him in his own pen." He panted. "That one over there sulking now is Loner, the only permanent Granian. Well, half one, anyway. Seems the others always pick on him. He's still young, maybe nine months? Poor thing."

Draco nodded. "Yeah. He looks quite regal."

"Oh yeah. Granians are even prouder than hippogriffs. Harder to train, too. He won't let me near him except to fill his trough every day." Harry released Mischief, who cried in indignation before galloping off to the others.

Draco walked towards the grey creature. It lifted its head and whinnied, a warning to stay back. Draco obliged, albeit reluctantly. Loner sniffed at the air, taking several steps towards Draco.

"I'd bow now." Harry suggested. Draco did so, remembering his lessons from Hogwarts. Loner regarded him quietly, tilting his head, then slowly bowed back. Draco hesitantly straightened up, then put out his hand to touch the beast. Loner shied away, then bolted.

"He's fast." Draco noted, watching him go. "Very fast."

"Yeah. All his kind are. I think he likes you." Harry pushed Anguis's head down from where it was sniffing his hand. "Would you like me to continue?"

"Please do. I love your ranch." Draco returned to Harry's side.

The raven-haired man smiled. "I'm glad. There are only four more hippogriffs here at the moment. Two of them are near the trough, the yellow and the white. They're mates, Gillywig and Avalanche. The pale yellow one is their daughter, Hatchwink and the green colt near her is her son, Fawnleap. I think his sire is Churchill. Shall we move on to the Phoenix coop?"

"We shall." Draco agreed. Harry held out his arm with a challenging grin. Draco hesitated, then took it. Harry pulled him close. "Right this way." He breathed, smiling at Draco, who was glad he didn't blush, even though he felt one creeping up his face.

Harry pulled him in the direction of a large barn-type building. Flinging open the door with a flick of his wand, he showed Draco in. Anguis, very well trained, waited outside, whining. Draco was astounded. The entire interior of the barn was charmed to resemble mountaintops and cliffs, with sparse, scraggly trees and rocks. The ceiling was enchanted as in Hogwarts, with the sky showing instead of a roof. Harry showed Draco around.

"Over here are the Egyptian phoenixes," He said, "I keep their area a bit warmer and drier than the rest. Next are the Chinese, you may recognize Fawkes among them, although he appears to be out at the moment. Probably in the manor. He has his own special nook in the house. There are the Indian ones, personally, they're my favorite. See the silvers and blues in their feathers? Oh man, I just love them." He chuckled as one of the fledgling Indian phoenixes cried and nuzzled his finger. "Hello to you, too, Kipling."

Draco smiled at the young bird. Harry pointed out the Augureys and the Jobberknolls, before something caught Draco's eye. Turning his head, he saw a beautiful, golden bird with an astonishing plume of feathers on its tail, wings, and head. The phoenix was preening, and Draco swore he saw the sort of metallic glint of metal coming off it's back.

"What is that?" He asked, amazed. Harry looked where he was staring.

"That's Rarity, my only Golden phoenix." Harry said. "Here, I'll call her over." He whistled. The bird lifted her head. Upon seeing Harry, she cooed sweetly and fluttered over, landing on his shoulder. He scratched under her beak.

"See? She loves people. Or, at least, she likes me and Luna." Harry invited Draco to touch her, which he did so, stroking her plumage. "Golden phoenixes are super rare, maybe, a few hundred left in all existence. I was lucky to find her."

Draco laughed with glee when Rarity nudged his hand with her head, seeking affection. "She's gorgeous."

"I know. If you'd like, I can try and get her to think of you as master, instead of me." Harry offered.

"Master?" Draco didn't understand.

Harry tried to explain. "Well, you know how Dumbledore had Fawkes? Fawkes was his familiar. All of the students had a rat or a cat or a toad and those were just pets, with the exception of a few Kneazles as cats. A magical creature will sometimes adopt a wizard or witch with a special fondness, and think of that person as master. They'll be that person's special animal and always be by their side. Anguis is mine, of course. Hermione has Crookshanks, who is half-kneazel. A Phoenix makes an excellent familiar because of their power and mobility. Not to mention all of the magic they can do to help you out."

"Ah. That would be interesting." Draco acknowledged. "I would love to have Rarity as a familiar."

"Anything for you, love." Harry said. Draco looked at him sharply. He blushed, grinning as a way of passing off his embarrassment. "Shall we move on?"

"...Sure." Draco squinted at him suspiciously but nevertheless, followed Harry as he let Rarity go and exited the coop.

Harry showed him around the property, including the lake and gardens. Draco was astounded at the sheer size of the place. It stretched even farther than Malfoy Manor and was certainly groomed to perfection. Draco laughed at Harry's antics, creeping behind a Bowtruckle or pretending to be strangled by some vines. Harry sat up smiling and suggested they take a look in the manor itself. Draco agreed.

Anguis had found them again after they left the Phoenix coop, and he scrabbled after them, sometimes in the air, sometimes on land. When Harry opened the door, he pushed past the two and curled up on a sofa.

"Thirsty?" Harry asked.

"I'll take a Firewhisky, that I brought." Draco teased. Harry nodded and snapped his fingers. "Dobby!"

The elf appeared with a pop. "Yes Master Potter, sir?"

"Just Harry, Dobby, honestly. We're friends. And get us two firewhiskeys, please" Harry told the house elf. Dobby nodded.

"Yes sir, Master Harry. Coming right up!" He vanished again.

Harry looked at Draco, exasperated. "I just can't get him to call me Harry. It's always Master Potter or Master Harry or something."

"That's probably our fault." Draco admitted. "Father never let Dobby call us by anything less than formal, by way of threats. I never tried to contradict him, because it seemed harmless what our house elf called us."

"Well," Harry said with a sigh, "perhaps we can change it."

After Dobby brought them their drinks, Harry continued to give Draco the grand tour. They passed several bedrooms, a living room, a sitting room, a dining room, a formal dining room, a breakfast nook off the side of the kitchen, a Potions lab, an ingredients cupboard that was more like an ingredients room, a dueling platform in a large hall, an observatory, the attic, and several large and small bathrooms.

"This is bigger than Malfoy Manor." Draco stated after they had finished the tour and returned to the sitting room.

Harry shrugged. "I had a lot of demands and the money to pay for it all."

"How did you come by that much money?" Draco asked.

"I had a large inheritance, also I earned some during my school years from various tournaments." Harry explained. I still have more than enough left over, enough to see me through to the end quite comfortably, if not luxuriously."

"Why would one person need so many bedroom?" Draco was curious. "There must be at least five.

Harry grew silent for a bit, then said, "I hoped that eventually it wouldn't just be one person living here. I had planned to return to the world sooner than this, and perhaps Ginny and I would come and stay here and maybe build a life and a family, but, like I told you, that dream sort of died. And maybe my friends would come and visit me, but it's been so long I don't think I have friends anymore."

Draco clasped his shoulder. "I'm your friends now."

Harry reached up and placed his hand over Draco's. "Thank you."

They didn't move for a while, until Kreacher came in to announce the time. "It's nearly seven o'clock, Master Black."

"Black?" Draco asked.

"I am the Black heir." Harry said. "It's easier for Kreacher to call me that since he's always served the Black family."

"Quite right, sir, and it's never been so fulfilling as now." Kreacher said with a sarcastic bow.

"Go on, Kreacher, enough of that." Harry said gently. "Your life here is undoubtedly better than at Grimmauld Place."

"Yes, Master Black." Kreacher snapped his fingers and Disapparated.

"I better go." Draco stood up. Harry pushed himself off the sofa as well. Anguis was sleeping next to him.

"Did you Apparate here?" Harry asked.

"I did, yes." Harry pointed to a fireplace nearby.

"We have a floo joint here." He told Draco. "It's private, only me, Luna, and you can use it. You can go home through that. The floo address for here is Gladstone Manor."

"Thanks, Harry." Draco smiled.

"Come back whenever you want." Harry told him. "I'll send you a letter soon."

"Alright then." Draco said farewell, then stepped into the floo, called out "Malfoy Manor!" and threw down a hand of floo powder. Harry watched him travel back to his home, then sat back down on the sofa.

Anguis raised his head. Puffing out two jets of smoke from his nostrils, he made a low whine and rested his head on Harry's lap. Harry stroked it, feeling the cool of the scales and spines. "I know, boy. He'll be back."

Draco, stepping out of the floo on the other end, was met with Knobby holding a platter or dinner. "For yous, sir, Master Draco."

"Thank you, Knobby. I'll take it in my room." He walked there and collapsed on his bed. Knobby set the tray on his dresser and raised his hand to Disapparate, when he saw his master's state. "Err... Master Draco? Yous being alright?"

"Of course, Knobby, I'm perfectly alright." Draco said. Knobby didn't recognize the emotions in his voice, so he Apparated down to the kitchen to make Draco a cup of hot cocoa. Going back up, he pushed it into Draco's hands.

"Yous not being alright. Knobby helps." Knobby said firmly, then hurriedly snapped his fingers and went back downstairs before Draco could say anything.

Draco sipped the cocoa. It had been quite an interesting day, and his feet hurt from so much walking, though he hadn't noticed until now. He tried to sort out his thoughts some, but kept coming back to realizing Harry fancied him.

He had seemed so cheerful when Draco met him today, but those moments when he seemed so lonely, Draco wanted to hug him. He laid back on his bed, setting the cocoa to the side. It didn't help that Draco was fixated on his eyes. They seemed even more like emeralds than when he knew him in Hogwarts, if that was possible. Draco could remember hating those brilliant green eyes back in school, but now he was just sort of... lost in them.

He shook his head, getting up and eating his dinner. When he was done he went down to his own potions lab, which he couldn't help but notice was smaller than Harry's, and brewed several mixes. Tired, he went up to bed, determined not to dream of those green eyes.


End file.
